


Safe harbor from the storm outside

by NoOrdinaryOwl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinaryOwl/pseuds/NoOrdinaryOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F!Adaar and Iron Bull being sweet and sexy. Like those candied nuts at the winter palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was real mad at the lack of F!Adaar x Iron Bull fics, so I wrote some myself.
> 
> Disclaimer: I discovered AoO like... yesterday... and I'm not actually expecting anyone to read this. So if you do and you like it. Yay? I guess?
> 
> We'll see how this goes.

"Boss, Krem is complaining it's been weeks since you sent the Chargers on an assignment. He's bored."

The Iron Bull smirked as he leaned on the wall in the Inquisitors office, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking at her expectantly. He had come up all the way to her office, passing Josephine and Leliana on his way up. They were quipping about some decision Adaar had made concerning the Nobles, which seemed ... unorthodox, as usual. He knew the Inquisitor hated dealing with the Nobles. She had a wicked sense of humor, which she applied generously when dealing with Orlais even as she mostly failed to hide her disdain for the Orlesian court. To think that she once sentenced the corpse of Florianne de Chalons to community service...

"Says **I'm** hogging all the fun." he added and with his amusement spreading over his face, laughing wrinkles appeared around his eye.

Inquisitor Adaar looked up from her paper work, slightly exasperated.

"I'm trying. I told the Commander to find something productive to do for them, if he hasn't heard anything yet, tell him to complain to Cullen."

She looked back down on her papers, then sighed and put the quill back on the writing tablet next to a small pot of black ink. They had to have the desk made custom, since her knees wouldn't have fit under a normal table top. In fact, she was grateful that her advisors had gone the extra mile to accommodate her as best they could, at least in her own quarters. The rest of Skyhold furniture still felt somewhat miniature, even as she greatly profited from high ceilings and big castle doorways. She looked at the Iron Bull, who was still leaning on the wall in no hurry to leave.

"Is there anything else?" She asked, hesitated for a moment and then said "I'm sorry, I want to go out and hit things with my sword, too, but I'm already pushing all the paperwork on Josephine and the things she gives me to look at ... **I have** to look at."

He grunted affirmatively and shifted his weight again, pushing himself away from the wall to straighten his back to full height. His horns swerved lightly as he licked his lips and mulled for a second over the question he was about to ask.

"So Boss......" a short pause. "About the dragon...?"

For a second she was startled. Her frustration with the paper work that she had let build over the past few months and now could not ignore any longer made way for curiosity. She genuinely couldn't remember any dragon. Any _live_ dragon anyway. Slightly puzzled she asked him as much as herself...

"What about the dragon?"

He threw his big hands in the air suddenly filled with overflowing enthusiasm and quickly walked up to her desk slamming his hands onto the edge of the table.

"WHAT ABOUT THE DRAGON?" he roared. "Boss, THE dragon! Aren't we going to... y'know?" He gesticulated at her in sheer disbelief.

She grew impatient now. The Iron Bull's passion for all things dragon-y burned brightly with the might of a thousand fade rifts and was well known to - well - _everybody_ \- simply by virtue of him talking about it at the drop of a hat. However while she shared his passion for hitting big things that needed to be dead she didn't play favourites.

"Bull, listen, I kill a lot of shit, it's literally been my day-job since.. forever. Granted, the things I kill have gotten.... **bigger** \- with time -... what about the dragon? What dragon are we even talking about?"

"Oh I assumed...."

Her answer had thrown him off. She paused. Looked at him. Looked at the paperwork. The quill was still in front of her, placed neatly next to the half-empty pot of ink. She looked back at him and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Bull..." she said very slowly whilst getting up and gingerly rubbing her pulsing forehead. "Are you fucking with me?" She looked straight at him as she crossed he arms in front of her chest. Stress and her intense dislike of paperwork contributed greatly to being majorly pissed-off right now. Her eyebrows furrowed dangerously.

"Because I remember no. goddamn. dragon. I remember _killing_ one in Crestwood... actually I _distinctly_ remember you **charging** at it and getting part of your stubble burned off. So either you tell me right the fuck now why you're not letting me finish my paperwork or..."

She was cut off by him sidling up to her, gently cupping her cheek with his hand.

"Kadan." he said appeasingly. It caught her off guard and the expression of her face softened a bit. "I'm sorry, guess that report is still buried in there."

Adaar looked at him doubtfully, but placated by the fact that he had at least been carried away by more than fancy or rumour this time. She thought about it for a moment, then finally asked

"So... they found _another_ dragon? Where did they disturb one this time?"

"Yeah, in the Hinterlands... you wouldn't think they could miss one there, but it seems they only stumbled upon it when they tried to clear that valley south of Redcliffe."

She felt the lump of frustration that had been sitting in her chest work its way down her innards into the pit of her stomach. Silently tilting her head into his rough fingers, that caressed her features. A deep breath wordlessly let out her anger, all dissipating into nothing. She looked at the paperwork again. Sadly it had neither moved, nor disappeared nor miraculously... worked itself out.

"I swear, if one more Orlesian noble compliments me on how I'm so 'well-spoken' for a Qunari, I'll lop someone's head off..."

The Iron Bull chuckled and moving his hand to wrap his fingers around her nape, tried to draw her closer. Still awkwardly stuck between desk and chair, Adaar gave the chair a good push with her foot, letting him pull her to his side. Longingly she wrapped her arms around his body. He smelled of tavern. Dirty leather boots, cheap ale and pipe smoke mixed with the earthy odor that was apparently his own. They quietly stood in a half-embrace for some moments. Bull's fingers playing with a short strand of her tied-up hair at the back of her neck, his other hand resting on her hip. Carefully resting her head on his shoulders so her curved horns wouldn't clunk into his, she could feel his breath on her forehead right where his lips almost grazed her hairline. Finally she broke the silence, trying to detangle herself from his grip.

"Bull, I know you mean well and I do need a break. Just... not right this moment."

"What?" he said surprised his head jerking up baffled. "I thought we were having a break _just now_?" He pulled her back in, hugging her even closer and the Inquisitor couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Bull no."

Even though she was almost his equal in height and basically dragged around a big hunk of metal on a stick all day, it was difficult for her to get out of his embrace. His big, muscled arms felt safe, but they also were like a vice. He released her and let his hands lay loosely around her waist, looking quite disappointed and a little worried. She looked into his eyes, trying to find the right words that would convince him and herself that she had work to do. Although suddenly she felt herself overcome with an aching desire spreading from her heart all over her body.

Her own hands resting on his arms, grasped them just a little harder as in her head she had an abrupt vision of him taking her on the desk and fucking her on that goddamn paperwork until nothing was left of either of them. Nervously she cleared her throat, knowing full well from the mischivious look in his eye that he knew too what must've crossed her mind in a flash. The tension between their bodies - close enough to touch, but also far enough to still pull away - was broken, when she slipped away to sit back down in the chair.

"I'll finish it today." The tone of her voice was that of determination. One way or another, she  **would** finish it today. "We can think about dragon-hunting after. Maker knows I'll feel like hitting something the size of Orlais."

"Sure Boss, whatever you need."

For another moment he lingered next to her desk, almost as if he was hoping the glimmer would come back and she might change her mind. He knew better, though, so he turned around and trotted back down the stairs where he had come from. He'd been gone just a second, when she saw his head pop up again just below the handrail.

"Boss. You let me know if you need to... unwind, yeah?"

"Just go tell Krem to talk to the Commander already."

He left, really, this time.


	2. I want you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting there.

Inquisitor Adaar gazed towards the stairs lost in thoughts. Maker's breath that man had an amazing ass. For what felt the millionth time today, she looked at the paperwork before her, then at the armor rack that displayed a full set of silverite plate fitted to her size, with an enormous two-handed bloodstone greatsword propped up against it. It was beautiful. How she yearned to go back into battle. The Valo-Kas were missing her sword-arm greatly, but so far everyone had just assumed that the Inquisitor liked being at the front of the Inquisition.

Fighting demons, killing Venatori, leading armies to glory. Even her advisors were generally under the impression that she seemed to enjoy herself just fine, but truly Adaar missed being with her mercenary band. True enough, she liked that the Inquisition led her places. The bigger and badder the enemies were that threw themselves at them, the more satisfying it felt to crush them, to see them driven before her and hear the wailing on the battlefield as the Inquisition's banners flew high over another victory won. When she closed her eyes, she could hear the sound of war horns in the distance. The thought in itself made her heart flutter in excitement.

Grumpily she finished looking over the last documents Josephine had so patiently stacked up on her desk, perpetually in hopes that she would take care of them _sometime_ soon. As she finished the last letter, the Inquisitor felt a wave of relief and a little pride wash over her. She liked Josephine a great deal and it would have pained her to disappoint even the lowest of her expectations. The least she could do was to humor and trust her, when she did insist that some matters simply **had** to get her approval.

Outside her window, dusk was setting the clouds on fire with red light atop the mountains. She felt horribly drained.

At the Herald's Rest the Iron Bull was sitting in his chair as usual, side-eyeing Krem's attempts to put a bottle to his mouth. Krem was either way too drunk already or using Tevinter blood magic to get whatever liquid was in the bottle down his throat. Letting his mind wander, he contemplated what weighed still heavily on his mind. Tal-va fucking shoth. Gatt's words had hurt more than any knives covered in poison ever could. Leaving the Qun behind... for what he had asked. _For this_ he thought happily as the heavy frame of Inquisitor Adaar pushed through the tavern door, causing a small ripple of cheers throughout the tavern.

It was hard not to marvel at her sight. Her broad, muscular shoulders. The hard-cut features of her face. A strong jawline and chiselled cheekbones covered by darkest grey. And the scars! Battle scars scattered all over her face and body from who knew how many fights. To many she looked intimidating, with backward-spiralling horns plated in metal and piercing grey eyes that could strike fear in the heart of men. To him she was perfect. To tame something so strong and wild... it made his heart race and his blood pump with excitement.

At the moment though, she was smiling awkwardly at the hearty welcome. Most of the people looked upon their closeness as something predicated on their shared race. Qunari in Thedas clung to each other, either as Tal-Vashoth bandits or Vashoth lost in a country that didn't really want them here. The Iron Bull did nothing to discourage their notions. It was bad enough, that most of her inner circle had figured them out and that it was only a matter of time until Varric had enough information... or made up enough 'information' for tales of the Inquisitor's love life to spread like wildfire. Having the soldiers believe they kept close due to a sense of cultural belonging was somewhat preferable to having them talk about - well - everything else.

He watched her greet a couple of soldiers who had raised their tankards or tipped their helmets at her, slowly but surely making her way towards him through the crowd. A quick nod and smile from Krem let Adaar know, that Cullen had found the Chargers some work. She hoped it would keep them busy for a while.

"Good to see you Boss!" he roared as she approached him.

"Hey Bull... no dignitaries around I see. Do we not have guests or have they died from alcohol poisoning trying to outdrink you?"

They both laughed and his raucous belly laugh made his torso ripple. The Inquisitor found her gaze quite strongly drawn towards his half-naked upper body. Thank the Maker that he was so fond of his harnesses. He offered her his tankard.

"I don't know Boss, maybe Josephine is telling them to stop taking my dares? Wimps."

He grunted with self-assurance. She took a big sip from his tankard, instantly regretting it. The maraas-lok hit her like a brick wall, numbing her mouth, but also decidedly taking her mind  **off** anything else.

"So, finally some time for a bit of fun Inquisitor?"

His face had a wickedly excited look, eye glinting, only made more smug by the wide, dirty grin on his mouth. It was intoxicating and frankly, terribly contagious. Adaar tried her hardest to at least pretend to play hard to get.

"I don't know Bull, I hear there's a dragon to be hunted out there, I should probably already be at work for preparations." She smirked back at him. "You know how it is."

It was hopeless to think she'd fool anybody, but the Iron Bull, gentleman that he could be if he wanted, was gracious enough to humor her.

"... don't say that. That's just, evil! Using **that** against me."

His disparaged tone really sold the impression of feigned offense, even as his eye kept laughing. Adaar had never been very good at feigning. At all. Feinting maybe, but not pretense. No matter how hard she tried, she always wore her heart on her sleeve. Straightforward in battle and in life. Probably why her immense disdain for the Orlesian court was mutual. What a bunch of...

The Inquisitor fell silent, not sure how to continue their banter, not for a lack of words, but for a lack of desire to keep up the facade.

"You'd be a horrible spy, you know that Inquisitor?" Bull said, reaching for his tankard, smiling again.

"Yeah... I know. Good thing I don't have to be."

It was relieving to just go back to speaking her mind. Let him be the sneaky Ben-Hassrath. Him and Leliana could keep the spying and "The Game" cornered for themselves. She watched him take a large gulp of his drink, only to start coughing heavily. As soon as he caught breath he rasped:

"Why are you still standing kadan? Sit. your. fine. ass. down. Come on now!"

He was reaching for a chair to screech across the floor, when she interrupted him, giving him a playful smack on the horns.

"Actually, I came down to make **you** get your ass **up** for once. Make you work a little."

"What? Up whe... ohhhh..."

Adaar snickered quietly, taking a look around the tavern. A couple of people had laughed at their display. Understandable, if you thought about it. It must've been funny to see someone smack the Iron Bull like that. No one else had the gall - or indeed the height - required to do that. And even if they had, who would want to smack a man who hunted dragons for sport?

The day they had killed the dragon in Crestwood, the Iron Bull had regaled the whole tavern with stories. Mostly for himself, cherishing every little moment of it, making sure to savour all the details, but loud enough for everyone else to hear. After she had given him the split dragon's tooth he had started wearing it proudly. For what it signified and because it was - in his own words - **fucking badass.**

"Let's go for a walk on the battlements. Come on."

There was no need to wait for a response. Moving back towards the door she shot him a look, but he was too busy heaving himself out of his chair. At how many tankards had he been exactly? she wondered. As she exited the tavern she gave a short greeting to scout Harding standing outside, then took a right towards the stairs leading up to the stone battlements.

"Hey, wait up!"

The Inquisitor had to muffle her laughter and turn away, when she saw Bull coming through the door, paying attention to navigate his horns to not slam into the doorway.

"See you upstairs!" she yelled back, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

Darkness had spread across the sky like black velvet, sprinkled with dots of light. Up on the battlements, the wind was stronger. It was almost winter now, frost already approaching on the northern winds, but she liked the feeling the burning cold left on her cheeks. Leaning forward down on her elbow on one of the small stone pillars jutting out of the wall, Inquisitor Adaar glanced up at the night sky. Heavy steps approached behind her. Steps she knew so well. Even before he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she closed her eyes in anticipation of the warmth of his body.

"Did they run out of dip again?" she asked mockingly.

"Hrm."

His deep voice resonated in his chest. She could _hear_ him smile and in turn it made her smile. Her body straightened and she rose to full height again, leaning back into his arms and putting her hands on his. They didn't talk. There was nothing to say, nothing that could have made this moment better than it already was. Together they looked into nowhere, the darkness ahead of them. The light of a guard's torch flickered across the Bull's horns for a fleeting moment, then passed. Nothing to disturb their silent embrace. In the night without so much to occupy her eyes, Adaar became keenly aware of all the sounds that wafted through the air. The faint sound of music from the tavern, the talk of soldiers resounding off the battlements, her breathing, his breathing. His smell, now heavy with the bitter aftertaste of maraas-lok.

In the intimacy of dark and warmth, she took his hand into hers and lifted it to her lips. She swore she could hear him hold his breath, if just for a mere split-second, before she started softly kissing his fingers. He let her, gently nuzzling the side of her neck. An innocent gesture, but it made her heart pick up its pace in anticipation of all the things he'd already done. All the things he might do again.

An...... ticipation. It was the sweetest and most tense feelings of all. Like the feeling of seeing your foe on a mountain ridge far off in the distance. The burning prickle of lust before the deed. The sharp sound of the sword drawn from its sheath moments before a fight. She could feel his embrace tighten against her in moments that felt like they could pass much too fast if they let go now.

He swallowed hard. Her kisses on his fingers were soft, almost imperceptible on the rough skin. Her desire was his desire. There was nothing he loved more than making her ache for his touch. It seemed tonight he might get a chance to do that and the thought of it tied his heartstrings into the most exquisite knots. Iron Bull rubbed his stubble across her cheek, tightening his grip on her. All the things they might do tonight. All the things he might do to her...

They remained, locked in a stalemate in which neither of them was willing to end the moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity she turned her face towards his and simply said in a low and quiet voice....

"I want you."


	3. My pleasure

"I want you." she whispered. "My pleasure" he murmured back at her.

How he wished to tie her down now. It was quite mysterious to him, how she managed to conjure desire unlike any other from the depth of his heart, but she could and ah... how it burned. He would never let her go, not if he could help it. He closed his eyes trying to wrangle down the intense lust that told him to pin her down right there on the battlements, instead roughly grabbing her and with a heaving "PHWOAR" he picked her up. Lifting her onto his shoulder caused her to squeak a very un-warrior-like noise of surprise.

As he turned around to carry her to the room he had claimed as his own in one of the battlement towers, he heard a muffled "I like the view" from Adaar as she hung upside down, her face dangling somewhere at the height of his ass. He returned the sentiment with an amused "Hah!" and with a loud _smack_ slapped her rear with his free hand, making her yell "HEY!" and playfully struggling by clawing at his back, but offering no real resistance. He knew that if she didn't want to, he'd never be able to manhandle her like that. He'd seen her take down giants, piercing their bodies with her greatsword, hacking into their skull all covered in brains and guts...

 _What a woman_ he thought, reminiscing to himself, his head filled with images of the gleam of her teeth bared in a war scream, her hands gripping tight the shaft of her sword raised above her head, the sight of her horns and hair drenched in blood. A thrilling thought, that in a few moments that woman would be his. He casually shoved himself through the door, taking care not to bump her into anything. He would hurt her tonight, dominate her, conquer her... but it really didn't have to start with bruises from the doorframe.

She was flung onto his bed, heart pounding. _Yes. yes. yes! Take me, take me like I'm yours to take._   Her hair started slipping out of the knot she had tied. She turned around to sit up, unsure if he wanted to peel her out of her clothes himself or if she should just take them off herself now. He had lingered at the door.

"This time, I won't have anyone walk in on us..." he said smoothly, still smiling that dirty grin he'd worn in the tavern. She heard the key turn in the lock and snorted bemusedly. "Why not? Some of them seemed eager to see a good show."

He turned around and thoughtfully shook his head.

"You can joke, Adaar, but I'm not sharing. Not you. Not this."

Their eyes met and they could each see the others desire in them.

In hers, a desire to leave the world behind that asked her to make unspeakable decisions each day. To strike people down, not in combat but dishonestly. With words, letters and judgement. To decide the fates of hundreds in a whim and answer to consequences no one could possibly weigh beforehand. Making others pay the price for her mistakes and they always paid with their lives - or worse. A desire to let herself be burnt to ash until there was nothing left, except to rise reborn in the morning to take on that insane world anew.

In his, a desire to love limitlessly. To give everything. To serve in a way he hadn't been allowed to under the Qun. Taking pleasure in his need to be needed so wholly by just one person and claiming them as his own, in a way that couldn't compare to anything else. A servitude that - at its core - was all-encompassing, but also deeply selfish. To know himself loved, not just for what he did, but also in spite of everything he'd done. As the Iron Bull, not a liar. In his way, he took the world off her shoulders, only to lay it at her feet.

He let himself fall down next to her on the craggy bed and started unbuckling his harness. With a few _snap_ s the shoulder plate came off, baring his scar-covered back to her as he bent over to take off the footbrace and kick off his heavy leather boots.

Adaar couldn't help herself staring at the sheer massiveness of his upper body. Taking the chance while he was still busy taking his own clothes off, she let her fingers run over the knotty-feeling scar tissue, tracing the deep lines of muscle that made his back look like it had been carved out of metal. He was was tough as ironbark, but warm. Impatiently she hung herself around his thick neck from behind to cop a feel of his soft belly. Even though he hid just as much muscle behind it as on the rest of his body, it was the only part of Iron Bull she could really call soft. He gave her a knock with one of his horns.

"Hey, you better use your hands when **I'm** ready for it. Look at you, not even naked yet, I'll rip off your clothes then!" he teased.

"I don't mind. And I like touching you" she shot right back, "... so make me stop **if you can** ". _Just stop making me sit on pins and needles you big jerk!_

"Oh **I can**." His voice rumbled, pants now crumpled on the ground. The only light was provided by candles hastily illuminated after entering the messy, still run-down room. The flickering fire threw their shadowy silhouettes at the wall, making them dance grotesquely in the faint breeze of night.

It was like the starting shot in a race. In a matter of seconds he'd taken her arms off his shoulders and pinned them down forcefully with just one hand at the top of the bed.

"Ready?" he asked softly. "Oh I'm ready." she growled. "Stop wasting time!"

The full weight of his body came down on her, squeezing her into the mattress. Iron Bull pulled out the red silk from under the bed with his other hand and gingerly let it brush against her face, before tying both her wrists together. It felt glossy and cool against her skin. With a swift yank, he fastened it to a bed post, tightening his reins and her whole body in one gesture. The tingle of high hopes was almost unbearable now.

He enjoyed seeing her tense up, like she was getting ready for battle. Bracing herself for an impact to come her muscles stiffened, her breath went faster now. In his own arousal he could sense the knot in his heart pulling him together from inside as his own skin started to feel hot.

Finally both hands free to use as he pleased, her legs unable to move under him he tenderly bowed down to kiss her forehead. Then he hooked his fingers into the banded collar at her neck, at first tugging carefully, then with powerful ease ripping apart the fabric along where the lazurite buttons held it together.

_Pop._

One by one.

_Pop._

Warm breath flowing from his nose buried in her neckline tickled the skin between her breasts.

_._

_Pop._

_._

Hot hands greedily grabbed for more.

_RRRRrrriiippp._

The last bit of clothing came apart and all the buttons clinked and tingled as they scattered onto the floor. His hand moved up to cup her breast, then came to a halt right below her  bared throat. Beneath his fingertips her chest had started heaving up and down with strained effort to control herself. It was difficult to let go for the Inquisitor, in her eyes he could still see her struggling. Struggling to relinquish control. Leading men and companions campaigning all day, the urge to command was not shed easily. _.._

Bull glanced at her fists tightly coiled around the silk binding her wrists, lean biceps taut with tension waiting to fight him for his dominance every step of the way. However if there was one thing he knew, it was that it was a fight she would inevitably lose. Not because she was weak, but because in her heart... she wanted him to win.

He bit back a rascal smile.  **This would be fun.**

Slowly he reached down to her hips, quivering under him.

"Mmmmhmmm, kadan... shall we start with the belt today?" he ruminated out loud.

Gently, his lips grazed the skin below her navel, his hand tracing from Adaar's throat, along her ribcage, towards the seam of her pants. She wanted to answer, but her breath was caught. Dead-locked by the compulsive need to be in charge and the simultaneous, _desperate_ yearning to be free from it at last. All she could manage was taking an involuntary deep breath at the thought that he would put prickling welts on her body tonight.

Red-hot and burning on her skin, like burn marks from a brand.

 **Pleasure** wrapped in _pain_.

Her deep voice was shaky as she finally managed to utter "Just do it already" under her breath. Bull threw his heavy head back and laughed. He reveled in her desire to, even now, make him follow her orders. As if she could. No, not here.

"Don't worry" he breathed back at her menacingly, "we'll do it my way." and with an iron grip he violently pulled apart the plaid of her pants all the way down to her thighs.

Her squirm at the sound of cloth tearing loudly, with the ease of the cut of a dagger, made his heart run wild. Bull could feel all his blood rushing to his hips.

Getting cocky he added "I'll make you **beg** for release before the night is out."

As their eyes met again, Adaar could see wild anticipation in his eye. To break her down, to make her yield. In hers, the usual fierceness was betrayed by yearning, so immeasurable as the pitch black of night reflected in them.

The wind was howling outside the tower room, candelight still flickering. The thick leather strap clenched in his fist was a little frayed, but glistened smoothly coated in oil. In her mind, she braced herself unconsciously closing her eyes, waiting for him to strike, waiting for the sensation to set in, waiting... for the feel of adrenaline rushing across her whole body, making her head spin.

 _There it is_ she thought, eyes closed, milliseconds before the sharp crackle in the air told her the lash was coming.

"AHHH!" Adaar's whole body flinched under his as he struck her across the chest, her cry of pain mixed with a moan, her hands struggling against the silken constraints.

"YOU ... arGHHh!" as she started cursing him out, he hit her again, making her wail, towering over her, getting more aroused with each swear she spit at him inbetween lashes.

"Foul mouth you got there" he said dryly, backing off a little, only to turn her on her back, twisting the ties around her wrists even tighter.

He licked his lips, while Adaar - pink marks burning on her chest like streaks of fire - was breathing erratically into the polstery.

For a moment, he leaned down, pressing his half-erect flesh onto hers. She shut her eyes, trying to shut out everything but the stinging sensation on her skin, the throbbing between her thighs and the pleasant shiver running down her spine. She shuddered at his touch, even though it was just a gentle brush of his face on the back of her neck. They stayed like this for a brief period of time until he softly asked...

"Will you yield?"

He knew the answer before she said it and smiled to himself.

"Never."

"I'd hoped you'd say that..."

Turned away, unseen by his eyes Adaar too, smiled - until the next lash made her cry out again. This time she didn't curse.

She couldn't help herself but moan a little, burying her face in the cotton sheets. Her bare back twitched as the pain sent her thoughts far away from everything outside that messy, old tower room.

He could see her turn her face at him, his fist still raised for another lash, his other firmly holding her shoulder so he wouldn't miss and accidentally, truly hurt her. He paused, looking at her curiously.

"That all you got?" he heard her mumble. The Bulls lips tightened, he enjoyed a good challenge, although he could see the resistance in her eyes crumbling.

The long scar on her back, that reached from the top of her shoulder all the way down to the middle of her spine told of other pain she'd suffered. Maybe an attempt at backstabbing her by an unlucky assassin who'd only managed to pull his dagger down her back, but not actually stab deep enough to kill her. That guy was probably dead now.

His gaze lingered on it for a while and he let her wait for the next pelt. When he thought he could see her muscles start to relax, he gave her another good whip that snapped through the air.

She wasn't cursing anymore, just whimpering and moaning into his bed with each whip, light marks blooming on her skin.

"Hnnggh..."

Her whole back felt like it had been set on fire, scorching the scar across her shoulder blades, the pain and burning sensation spreading to all the other body parts as well. It hurt when he hit her, but the hurt quickly dissipated behind that rush of ecstasy every lash set loose, numbing the pain in an intense feeling of lightheadedness and her swelling desire to just be fucked out of her mind. 

Watching her closely, the Iron Bull tossed the belt aside, bending over her to caress each and every stripe he'd left with his lips. Her panting breath filling his mind with visions of conquering the rest of her body very soon.

Adaar could feel his sweaty hands on her burning backside. His soft mouth and the gruff stubble on his chin scraping her spine. She wanted him to take her, she wanted to ask him to do it, beg him to do it. But she knew if she did, he'd only make it his mission to defy her and tease it out as far as possible. _Just let go, just... trust him. You can. You know you can._ Thoughts were spinning in her head. Slick, glossy silk tugging at her wrists.

"What are you thinking about so intensely, kadan?"

Her lips quivered. She realised she hadn't made a sound since he'd stopped whipping her. Of course he'd noticed. How could he not. She tried to control her breathing, but couldn't because her heart was still racing and her clitoris aching and wet. Adaar swallowed hard. She couldn't bring herself to answer. The air was thick with the smell of their sweat, leather and smoke drifting in from the fires outside.

"It's ok... I think I already know."


	4. Pillow talk

"It's ok... I think I already know" she heard and at that very moment felt both his hands parting her ass cheeks, his thumbs gently gliding down her wet, slick labia.

 _Oh for fuck's sake..._ Her whole budy shuddered convulsively as she dug her face into the sheets, unable to do anything else with herself - hands tied up and legs pinned down.

The Iron Bull savoured every second of this way too much. Which, in his opinion, was just the perfect amount of savouring for pretty much everything. Hard liquor, good fights and of course fine women. Lovingly he squeezed her butt **hard** and gave it a good slap. The slap barely even registered on her pain scale any more, all her senses now overloaded with the hard stinging of her skin and the aching desire to be fulfilled inside.

Gently he positioned her hips up, putting her on her knees and breathed a hot kiss on her dripping vagina. Her whimpering moan, muffled by the cushioning made him even harder. He wanted to fuck her so bad, laying ass-up and legs splayed before him, but it wasn't quite time yet. First he'd make her suffer for a little while longer in unsatisfied lust, squirming in his hands. 

Painfully slowly he let the very tip of his thumbs open her up, to let his tongue slide inside of her. He felt her thighs tremble and revelled in her agonized attempts to suppress moans rising up from her chest.

She could feel his tongue playfully exploring the very edge of her vulva as he worked his way up to her clitoris, circling it lazily as he gripped her upper thighs, his fingers burying deep into her muscle from his own tightly controlled desire.

Maker this was becoming unbearable. _Katoh..._ the safeword danced on her mind, but she couldn't let it end now.

 _By the Maker, will you fuck me already, you're driving me insane!_ she wanted to yell at him, but at the same time, his lips tentatively sucking on her clit felt like it was going to completely blow her mind to pieces.

"Don't stop..." she gasped instead, breathlessly, eyes closed to drink in the sensation of the delicate rub of his supple tongue against her clit. His answer, a low rumbling affirmative hum sent her body into violent shivers as the vibration of his voice raced trough her most sensitive nerves.

"Oh Maker, please don't stop, just don't... "

Her begging was sweet as honey, no more orders, just a feeble plea knowing she was at his mercy. He ramped up the pressure, burying his face in her, teasing her with his tongue his cock pulsing with blood. Adaar's moaning, now loud, unabashedly aroused and working her way towards an orgasm tugged at his self-control. Just as her sighs got quicker and he felt her twitching with pleasure... - he stopped.

Suddenly left out in the cold she struggled against her wrist restraints. It took her a moment to realise that he'd only  taken her close to the edge of satisfaction to pull her away at the last second.  _That bastard_ , her legs writhed in his grip and tipping to the side she managed to turn around on her back again.

Smiling he let her turn around, looking at her angry face, flush and reddened. Before she could say anything, he bent forward propping himself up over her with his elbows next to her cheeks pressing a hard kiss on her lips, while his hands clasped around her face, his fingers weaving into loose strands of white hair. Adaar's anger vanished as suddenly as it had come, melted away by the hungry kisses he fed her.

Again she closed her eyes, only wishing she could embrace him fully to hold his face with her hands, too, as she fervently returned his kisses. Her hard nipples brushed up against his chest. How she longed to be touched more, held closer, made love to....

Still caught in a surge of passion his rough kisses kept spurning on, she finally felt his weight shift and push into her his thick throbbing shaft. Her loud gasp of pure carnal want was drowned out by his mouth on hers. Still hungry, still craving her every breath, he kissed her over and over again. Her lips felt raw, but his want was insatiable.

He felt Adaar's legs winding themselves around his, locking both their bodies together. Her whole body crying out under him in a spasm of voracious need. His self-control was slipping, but there was still so much time left to enjoy, so he moved slowly inside her, trying to calm his heart pounding in his chest. At this point he couldn't tell anymore if he was torturing her or himself in this wicked game they both played.

Being close to her was intoxicating. He gave himself and her pause to let her catch her breath, burying his face in the side of her neck gently nuzzling her soft, warm skin. Maybe now was a good moment to think about giving her a hand? Sniggering to himself at his own mental image, it was clear he was back in control of his own senses and he took advantage of it, by starting to thrust into her a little harder.

As a moan escaped her lips, Bull couldn't help himself but playfully bite her shoulder cherishing the little tremble it caused to run through her torso.

She loved the feeling of his heavy body on hers, weighing into her and enveloping her in strong, muscular arms. His slow but steady rhythm scratched the itch she had felt when he'd whipped her good and the hot pulse of his rock-hard cock inside of her, deliberately letting her feel the full length of his flesh, as he slowly slicked in and out of her filled her mind with nothing else, save thoughts of how she couldn't live without this anymore.

His ears were filled with only her heavy sighs and ecstatic groans now and he decided she would probably need something to hold on to, once he picked up his pace. Self-complacently he allowed his own arousal to vent in a low and reverberating growl that seemed to tickle her fancy, because he could feel her legs tighten around his hips. The best was yet to come...

Adaar felt her restraints loosen and suddenly realised, that while she lay there now relaxing - concentrating on feeling him move and moving with him, grinding her hips towards his, trying to make him push deeper and harder - he'd fumbled loose the silk threads that held her wrists. For a second, she didn't even know what to do with her hands, just letting her muscles stretch and ease the tension.

But just as she started thinking about the possibilities, he moved his legs inbetween hers spreading them wider ever-so-slighty... then suddenly thrusting into her **hard**. The bed squeaked under their combined weight shifting into one direction and her hands instinctively gripped his torso. When her nails burrowed deep into his back, a hoarse moan burst out of him.

"I love it when you moan" she whispered breathlessly into his ear, but she got no answer...

Instead, he pulled her closer, panting heavily, his big hands forecefully gripping her ass to fuck her even harder.

Adaar held on to him, her muscles tensing up, while her clit pulsated in his rhythm and her vulva tightened around his cock. Every thrust put her closer to the edge, she closed her eyes as she felt the feeling of pure thrill of ecstasy mounting.

With every thrust it felt like he lost a little more control and he barely held on to it anymore now. Her breathing, broken up by gasps every time he pushed his whole girth into her drove him crazy. He could feel her tighten around him, aching for his touch. Sweat glistened on his back as both their bodies twisted themselves into each other in the sputtering candlelight. The wax dripped down the wooden bedside table, gathering in creases on the floor.

Outside, night had swallowed sounds and sights in utter darkness...


	5. Gotta take the Bull by his horns

A sudden thundering crash stopped them dead in their tracks. Frozen and tangled into each other, they waited, unsure what had happened. Tiny pearls of sweat rolled down her brow, her messy hair sticky on her forehead. Reflexively she licked the corner of her mouth, catching the salty taste. For a few seconds they struggled to give a damn... both of them still gasping and all wound-up.

Rambunctious laughter drifted up to the battlements and Adaar's mix of curiosity and worry was replaced by impatience. The Iron Bull was still looking at the door, but she grasped his face with both hands making him face her and pulled him down to kiss him. Hesitantly he let himself be coaxed back into her arms, quickly distracted from whatever was happening outside by her tender but passionate kiss.

The short pause had somehow shifted the tension and when he picked up where they had left off, his demeanor was less one of rough subjugation, but one of overwhelming yet affectionate ardor.

Adaar wrapped her arms around his neck, caressing his bald head and softly moaning into his ear, as he started to grind his hips between hers again. For some reason, in this very moment she felt an effervescent wave of happiness well up. Holding on to him as tightly as she could, she squeezed her cheek against his and murmured...

"I love you".

The Iron Bull smiled and his warm embrace strenghtened at her words. His sweat-glazed back arched and he pushed into her deeply. Adaar's grasp weakened, her eyes closed in a near-incapacitating tremble of pleasure as the tip of his cock touched her G spot.

Lips quivering she buried her face in the bend of his neck. He could feel her kiss his skin, then move up a little to suck at his earlobe, her fingers digging into his scalp.

He moved with her, both of their bodies pounding into each other - games forgotten. Their fingers inter-woven, he dragged her up the head of the bed pinning her body against the wall. His head in front of her breasts he licked her dark-grey areola, while she rode him, pressing her hips onto his cock.

With every thrust her back pressed against the cold stone, sending shivers down her spine while her own horns clanged against the wall behind her.

His head buried between her breasts, she could feel his hot breath on her stomach and in a moment of cheeky whimsy she struggled free, grabbed onto both his horns and threw back her hair half-laughing, half-moaning. As she held on to him, he let out a frisky roar and unexpectedly losing balance tipped over to the side, bouncing into the mattress tearing her down with him.

They rolled over each other fast embraced and to her own surprise she came out on top. Adaar felt him let go of her hands, slipping down her sides and grabbing her butt.

She sat up, concentrating on feeling him move inside of her. He pressed her onto his hips as she moved up and down,  groaning loudly. Her clit rubbed against his loins, throbbing and swollen. They moved in unison, completely lost in their smoldering lust. Her vagina tightened in spasms around his flesh, her lower body swaying back and forth on his.

His cock pulsated inside of her and he could feel her nearing orgasm. He himself almost couldn't hold himself back anymore, but he wanted to satisfy her first.

She felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth from biting her lower lip too hard, but it didn't matter. Adaar clenched her fingers around his horns. So close... so very close. Every movement made her gasp louder. "Ah.." Every thrust. "Ahhhhhh!" Every.  "AHHHHHH" single. " **AHHH!** " ... with a breathless shudder she came. Her skin was hot like fire and weakly she leaned forward onto his chest, as he kept moaning into her ear.

Finally letting loose, he kept fucking her even as she was already exhaustedly laying down on his chest. Just a little more. In the warm embrace of her dripping wet cunt Bull felt the knot in his chest detangle and as he spilt into her, he couldn't remember ever feeling so _connected_ to anyone. Caught in the moment they held on to one another, bodies intertwined. Greasy sweat all over.

Bull was lying under of her, panting like a depleted work horse. Completely spent she rolled off to the side into the now kind of damp mattress and he closed his eyes, trying to calm his breath.

"Hhhrrrmmmmm...." He exhaled deeply. "That was good."

They lay next to each other for a while, wordlessly, looking at the stone ceiling. Heat radiating off their bodies. Outside, a group of soldiers walked past their door, joking and talking as they walked down the stairs into Skyhold's inner bailey.

Turning towards her Bull delicately placed her hand in his, looking at her. Mesmerized. He opened his mouth to say something, but then it seemed the words didn't fit, so he remained quiet. Shifting his head he gently touched his brow to hers and then simply muttered...

"I love you too."

Fondly she stroked his forehead with the other, caressing every little crease and wrinkle of his face. Her finger stopped at the eyepatch, tracing a swift line around the fabric. Just as she was about to pluck at it, his hand caught hers.

"Don't. It's not pretty. You know it isn't."

Silently she stroked his thumb with hers, but when he tried to take her hand off his face she resisted, placing the palm of her hand firmly on his cheek.

"Please let me?"

He sighed heavily. It was clear that he didn't understand why she wanted this, but even if he was debating with himself whether it made any sense, he eventually just grumbled:

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Timidly she pushed her finger under the rough-spun linen, peeling the patch away gingerly. He slightly flinched, obviously somewhat uncomfortable.

The Iron Bull was not a man self-conscious of his body, heck if anything he was  _very_ conscious of his body - in the best way possible - but this seemed to be different. He wore the eyepatch proudly for Krem, but it was what was underneath that appeared to bother him.

It was a mess of scars. The hit must have gone deep, scar tissue had permeated almost all of his eye which either was numb and shut or had just healed over uselessly. Adaar felt a pang of heartache, not at the price he paid, but at the thought of the pain it must've inflicted on him for days or even weeks. Her eyebrows furrowed a little and carefully she touched the crooked lines. As he sighed she put the eyepatch back.

"You are perfect the way you are, you know that?"

He grumbled something under his breath and averted his eye. She couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or just annoyed, but there was nothing to worry about. He leaned back, trying to position himself comfortably onto the pillows and put his arm around her.

The candles had almost completely burnt down by now, casting only a dim light on the both of them. The dying flame cloaked Adaar's naked figure in shadows, softening the hard-muscled edges and hiding the streaks on her chest. Bulls hand stroked her warm, smooth skin from her shoulder down the curve of her waist, coming to a rest on her ass. He violently jerked up as another loud thwack crackled through the night.

"Wait", he said, sitting up, then hastily pulling up his pants from the floor and hopping towards the door.

He unlocked it and slid it open just enough to listen and peek outside. Suddenly they both heard a man's voice. Someone was obviously very, very drunk. The speech was pretty slurred and they couldn't make out what he was yelling. Then, in an abrupt moment of realization Adaar's mouth fell open. She sat up quickly.

"That's Krem. Krem is yelling. What the hell is going on?"

Laughing sounded up to the tower and only one voice was carried up by the north wind.

"I TOLD ya, they DO fly! Made 'em m'self! They got **WINGS** y'see!"

Bull closed the door and started laughing, his whole torso shaking uncontrollably. The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed in disapproval and for a moment she feared a very Cassandra-like disgusted noise would escape her lips...

"I swear, if they used the trebuchets for this..."


	6. Cute as a stuffed nug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid fluff.

"I have to admit, they **are** quite adorable."

Adaar reluctantly agreed, cradling a big stuffed nug with plushy wings, which the Iron Bull had shoved into her arms just seconds ago, glowing with that sort of radiant, overflowing pride usually reserved for parents and nursery teachers.

"I know, Boss! Aren't they amazing? He sewed them with his _own hands..._ " he added enthusiastically, then trailing off into a moment of thought as he looked at his own hands.

Probably contemplating the enormousness of that statement, considering with his huge fingers he would have had considerable trouble even holding a needle, much less making small, repetitive movements with one.

There was a short moment of awkward silence as they looked at each other. Adaar with nug in hand - feeling oddly maternal all of a sudden - and the Iron Bull standing next to her caught in his own amazement, letting his fingers twirl absentmindedly.

"Sooooo....... what do I do with it?" she finally asked, to break the silence and because she genuinely couldn't really think of any use for it, besides the fact that it was temporarily amusing.

"I don't know." he answered, pensively scratching his ear.

Back to awkward silence then.

She didn't want to hurt Krem's feelings by just giving it back. Maybe put it somewhere... on a shelf? Adaar walked a few paces away from her desk, in her mind trying to envision a good spot to put a stuffed nug. It didn't really _fit_ anywhere in particular. She never thought of herself the kind of person to own such a thing. Getting a little annoyed with herself and the situation, her face pulled a weird grimace in a mix of grumpiness and deep thought. Turning her head at him she grumbled...

" **You're** no help at all."

The Iron Bull just shrugged apologetically. This was not his forté. Taking care to not swish off everything strewn about on her desk, he leaned himself against the table. Watching her as she grew irritated, holding the nug up from time to time, as if to see if it would fit into the place she imagined in her mind. Bull really liked nugs, they were small and soft and just...delightful. An oafish smile surfaced on his face subconciously, as he looked on how Adaar struggled to find a place to put the unexpected gift.

Adaar struggling was a real treat, not often did one see her like that - well, except maybe when they.... - but, this was different. Bull tilted his head and snortled a little.

"You're very entertaining."

He was shot a disgruntled look, but nothing more as she kept looking for a good spot. On the bed? Impractical. Near the weapons rack, maybe? No, not enough space. Somewhere at the fireplace? Too dangerous. It might fall off. Finally she gave up, circled back to the desk and setting the plushy down on the side of the tabletop she leaned next to him. She let out a deep sigh.

"I don't know what to do with this. It doesn't fit _anywhere..._ "

Sniggering quietly, the Iron Bull put his warm, taut arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Maybe the solution is easier than you think, kadan?"

Adaar looked at him with good measure of skepticism reflected in her eyes, one brow sligthly raised.

"Do enlighten me", she said sarcastically.

The Iron Bull smiled his good-natured smile and gently picked up the nug. Still holding her in one arm and the nug in the other, he scanned the room. Adaar inquisitively raised her other brow as well, biting her tongue and abstaining from saying _Well?_. He took a while to think about it, then letting go of her he strolled towards the fireplace and set it next to one of the Halla statues. Having nudged the nug onto the mantelpiece, between the figurine and the chimney, he then proceeded to take a step back.

Half-turning, he looked back at her.

"Good?"

Adaar mulled it over for a couple of seconds. It was out of the way, but still somewhere where you could look at it if you wanted to. She still didn't think it _really_ fit anywhere, but perhaps that was a matter of getting used to it. For now, the nug had a place to sit, next to one of those blasted halla she spent so much time looking for back at the Winter Palace.

"I guess it works." Adaar was still a little doubtful. "What if it falls off and burns to a crisp? That's not my fault then, is it?"

She looked at it for another moment and had a sudden stroke of genius.

"I know where I'll put it!"

The Iron Bull looked at her expectantly and Adaar just smiled a mischivous grin.

"Oh you'll see" she said, happiness at her own idea whirling away all annoyance she had felt before. "Off with you, I've got work to do."

\--------------------------------

Behind the mountains the last rays of sun glowed dimly, drawing sharp edges of mountain tops into the sky. Clouds lined with magenta and golden shimmer drifted across dark blue. There was a knock at the door of Adaar's quarter.

"Come in!" she called, not getting up from the bed where she was shining the silverite breastplate still somewhat dirty from the last kerfuffle in the Hissing Wastes. The sand was the most infuriating thing, it got into **everything** and kept leaving ugly smudges.

Heavy steps came up the stairs and as per usual, Bull visited her at the end of the day.

"Hey Boss, putting some spit to metal I see. Good on you."

He let himself fall onto the bed behind her, making the whole bed frame shake. Letting out a deeply relaxed groan he stretched himself...

"Ahhhh... can you believe I've spent five hours training today and Krem still can't see the shield bash coming? To think that man is blinder than me...unbelievable."

Adaar put down the shining cloth and got up to put the breastplate back on its rack.

"You give him too little credit, he's a good fighter." she answered, fastening the leather straps of the armor.

"Still can't see a shield bash coming, though..." the Iron Bull retorted grumpily.

He grumbled a little, but didn't say anything more when she sighed in return and gave him an incredulous look.

"So, how do you like where I put the nug?" she asked cheerily, changing the topic.

"Where'd you put it?"

"I'll give you a hint. It involves looking. With your eyes."

"You spend too much time around Dorian, you know that?" he mocked.

Dorian's sarcasm was well-known and well-suffered by all the residents of Skyhold without fail and the close friendship the Inquisitor and him had seemed to have rubbed off on her. She threw her hands up in exasperation, indicating that she was at least half-serious about the looking. Bull leaned back and let his gaze wander. Then in an abrupt realization, he looked up and started laughing heartily.

"Well, it does make **sense** at least!" he guffawed.

Obviously tickled pink by the success of her own idea, she let herself fall onto the bed next to him and cuddled up into his arm still beaming with a broad smile. They both looked up at the stuffed nug with wings, hanging by a thin thread from the ceiling as if flying over the room. He laughed for a while, then fell silent with a sudden thought. Holding her fast in his arm, while her warm cheek rested on his breast he murmured...

"I wonder if Krem can make stuffed dragons..."

The Inquisitor snortled and hugged him back, inadvertantly whacking him in the face with her horns.

"Hey watch it!"

"Oh, I'm sorry... but ... really?"

She looked up at him and had to snicker at his deflated look. For a huge Qunari with horns and a big war axe usually strapped to his back, he had a surprisingly disarming demeanor if he wanted to. Disarming in the non-killing sense of the word, too. The Iron Bull was *always* serious about dragons, even stuffed ones it seemed. Adaar drew a deep breath and appeasingly caressed his face with her hand.

"I'm sure he'll try if you ask nicely." she offered

"Hrm. Maybe I will, kadan. Maybe I will."

They both sat on the bed and the Iron Bull tenderly stroked her hair as they watched the mist outside swallow the last rays of light. She buried her face in the side of his neck and keenly felt the dry heat of his body against hers. If only those moments would never end.

"I hope we win." Adaar muttered quietly...

"We will." he said and with that he wrapped his other arm around her and placed a tender, delicate kiss on her forehead.

 


End file.
